


Debitum

by Overanalyzer



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Alternate Universe - Kavinsky Lives, Biting, Blow Jobs, Double Penetration, K is cool with that, M/M, Matthew and Ronan use K like a weird sex proxy, Mild Blood, Rimming, Sibling Incest, Threesome - M/M/M, mild violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:20:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26560546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Overanalyzer/pseuds/Overanalyzer
Summary: Kavinsky wants to settle up. Matthew doesn't really see the point, until he does. Ronan, surprisingly, rolls with it.
Relationships: Joseph Kavinsky/Matthew Lynch, Joseph Kavinsky/Matthew Lynch/Ronan Lynch, Joseph Kavinsky/Ronan Lynch, Matthew Lynch/Ronan Lynch
Comments: 5
Kudos: 27





	Debitum

**Author's Note:**

> Look, it was bound to happen eventually, if for no other reason than that I am what I am, and what I am is just a terrible trash monster.

It wasn’t about revenge, and it was important to Matthew that everyone understood that.

Because...he was Matthew. He was forgiving, and easygoing, and agreeable, and even if he hadn’t been any of those things, the whole “kidnapping/near immolation/sexual mind game/cry for help” had been _ages_ ago, and nobody had gotten seriously hurt, so what was the point in holding a grudge? None, exactly, thank you. If other interested parties insisted that they owed you some sort of “payback” for past wrongs, then that was entirely on them.

No, Matthew punching Joseph Kavinsky in the face had had nothing to do with payback. It had, he suspected, very little to do with Matthew at all to start, and more to do with the aforementioned sexual mind game. That much was evident from the hard-on clearly visible through Kavinsky’s jeans as he wiped the blood from his lip, which was nowhere near as surprising as K’s smug dirtbag grin implied it should have been.

What was surprising was the charge _Matthew_ had gotten from throwing the punch. That bit was new. And kind of embarrassing.

“I fucking knew it,” K had crowed, and before Matthew could muster some sort of deflection, the situation just sort of deteriorated into a blur of mouths, scratches, and small amounts of blood.

The blood should probably have him more worried, if all of Ronan’s comments about Kavinsky being a “piece of shit junkie scumbag” were anything to go by, but Matthew wasn’t doing a good job with prioritizing at the moment. Besides, Ronan didn’t seem too concerned.

Right. Ronan. Because, you know, he’d been here the whole time, too. Not usually an easy guy to forget was in the room, but in Matthew’s defense, there was currently a hand down his pants. Matthew spun them around so that he could see over Kavinsky’s shoulder (not hard, K was skinny as hell) and get a look at him.

His brother was standing there, looking like very little of the whole situation was getting through to him. Total bluescreen. Ronan.exe had encountered an error and needed to shut down. Not unexpected, given what was happening. But Matthew was starting to get alarmed. Ronan didn’t seem to be breathing. He was just as still as a statue, his eyes glassy, his fists clenched, his dick—

Oh.

_Oooooookay._

That bit was _really_ new.

And yet, Matthew found that he didn’t mind. Ronan—his beloved older brother who’d kind of, sort of, made him—was standing there, in the living room of Kavinsky’s tacky McMansion, watching as Matthew got both a handjob, and _very_ acquainted with the inside of K’s mouth, and rather than exploding into violence as might be expected, was just looking on, pitching a rather impressive tent in the expensive black jeans that he’d artfully (and pretentiously, in Matthew’s opinion) ripped himself.

And it felt just as good as Kavinsky’s fingernails raking down Matthew’s back did.

So yeah, new information all over the place.

He brought one hand up to K’s shockingly soft hair, and another down to the wrist stuck in the waistband of his joggers, tugging on both. K seemed to appreciate it. From the way Matthew saw him swallow, Ronan did as well. That got Matthew’s gears turning. He pulled K’s head to the side, exposing that pale neck. Now or never. He winked at his brother and bit down.

Matthew wasn’t sure what he’d expected to happen. He wasn’t sure he’d had any expectations at all. But he quickly decided that Ronan stripping off his shirt and striding forward to grab hold of K’s hips would do nicely. Matthew kissed K again as Ronan ground against his old frenemy’s ass. Between the two of them, they had Kavinsky virtually immobilized, something K didn’t seem to mind at all, if the way his free hand clung to Matthew’s shirt as he moaned into his mouth meant anything.

Feeling daring (in for a penny, in for the whole fucking bank vault), Matthew released K’s wrist, letting his hand go to continue working Matthew’s dick, while Matthew’s own slid to cover his brother’s. Their eyes met, and Ronan gave him a questioning look. Matthew just grinned and nodded toward the plush red couch. Ronan grinned back. Great minds thought alike.

Matthew broke away first, kicking off his shoes and pulling off his shirt. Ronan leaned over to whisper in K’s ear, “You’re gonna wanna get him nice and wet.”

K’s eye’s widened. “Shit, diving right right in, ain’t we?”

Pulling his joggers off, Matthew shrugged and sat down, spreading his legs invitingly. “Like you had anything better to do today?”

Kavinsky snorted, but his eyes were fixed on Matthew’s cock. He let Ronan take care of his jeans and climbed up on the couch on his hands and knees. “Mouthy little shit. Lucky you’re cute.” Then, as if to show off, he leaned down and took Matthew to the root in one smooth motion.

It was, frankly, a lot nicer than you might expect from Joseph Kavinsky. Definitely the best blowjob Matthew had ever received. The right amount of pressure, no gagging, only the barest hint of teeth. Just the hot, silky back-and-forth of K’s mouth and throat around him. Matthew wondered which of his dirtbag buddies K had been practicing on. All of them, knowing K; their whole crew had a very incestuous vibe.

This clearly wasn’t Ronan’s first rodeo either. He licked at K’s hole with experienced ease. He looked up at Matthew with half-lidded eyes, and Matthew wondered what it would be like, being on the receiving end of his big brother’s mouth. The thought was almost as pleasurable as K humming around his cock, and he mentally revised his assessment of K’s group as “incestuous”. Glass houses, and all that. Assuming today didn’t kill all of them, he’d have to give strong consideration to bringing up the idea with Ronan at some point.

It was such an appealing idea, in fact, that he grabbed Kavinsky by the hair and pulled him off his cock. He wouldn't risk popping off too soon. He wanted to see this through to the end—K’s end, to be exact. He kissed him again, hard, tasting his own precum in K’s mouth. He glanced down at K’s own cock, hard since the word “go”, and wondered how it would taste. Being a man of singularly poor impulse control, he decided he’d find out.

Ronan, bless him, seemed to get the picture immediately, yanking K’s hips up and giving Matthew room to shimmy underneath him. Not the most ideal position, but it gave him a good view of Ronan’s tongue driving in and out of K’s hole, which he certainly appreciated. Kavinsky’s dick matched the rest of him perfectly, pale and slender. It was uncut, and there was a cocaine joke in there somewhere that Matthew was trying to be too classy to make. Matthew swiped his tongue across the tip, and it was only Ronan’s grip that kept him from getting speared in the face. The taste was slightly more bitter than what Matthew had picked up of himself—K was clearly not eating his pineapple.

Curiosity sated but interest piqued, he captured the head between his lips and began to suck in earnest. Matthew couldn’t claim K’s or Ronan’s level of experience, but he’d done this a time or two, he’d picked up a couple of tricks and figured he could make it good for Kavinsky. He moved up and down on K’s cock at a leisurely pace, luxuriating in K’s whispered curses and the sight of Ronan hard at work.

Speaking of which, if he tilted his head back, he was just about eye-level with his brother’s own neglected erection, still straining against the front of his pants. Ronan was the only one of the still wearing any clothes, which Matthew privately thought was a damned shame. It would be so easy to reach out for his zipper…

But no. So far they’d both been focusing all their physical attention on Kavinsky. Matthew had the sneaking suspicion that that might change, if all this was heading toward what he _thought_ it was heading toward, but he’d have to wait for Ronan to take that step. He knew his brother, knew the way his self-loathing could still flare up if prodded carelessly. Matthew was having far too much fun to risk knocking everything straight into the wrong kind of weird.

Kavinsky groaned as Ronan abandoned his tongue in favor of two fingers roughly working in and out of his hole. Matthew felt his one-time abductor’s head collapse against his thigh, K’s soft hair tickling him. The sight of Ronan’s muscular arm tensing up as his fingers disappeared inside K...it was probably a good thing K was distracted, or Matthew might have come then and there.

He watched in rapt fascination as Ronan added a third finger. K groaned with a few abortive thrusts into Matthew’s mouth. Ronan smirked down at him, wiggling his pinky finger. Still very much on the same wavelength, Matthew doubled his efforts as his brother worked the last finger inside. The two-pronged assault was too much for K, who came down Matthew’s throat while clawing at his leg hard enough that Matthew was sure he’d drawn blood.

Seeing little point in staying on his back, Matthew crawled out from under K, getting back into a sitting position and letting K lean on him. He carded his fingers through K’s sweaty hair as Ronan continued working. Four was more stretching than either of them would need, all but confirming Matthew’s suspicions about what his brother intended. _God_ he hoped he was right, the thought alone had him harder than he’d ever been.

With Kavinsky having already gotten off, Matthew clearly hovering near the edge, and himself still totally unattended, Ronan seemed to be losing patience, shoving in and out of Kavinsky’s hole with more force than Matthew thought was strictly necessary, but which K seemed just fine with, judging by the little moans he was making into Matthew’s chest. Honestly, seeing him like this was a revelation; a few years ago this strung-out madman had tied Matthew up in the trunk of car he’d planned on setting ablaze. Now Matthew was gently holding him while his brother mercilessly fingered him into a boneless mess. Go figure.

“Fuck this,” Ronan said, pulling away from K’s ass, slapping it once for good measure. “He’s as ready as he’s gonna be.” The words went straight to Matthew’s dick. Ronan kicked off his jeans, and Matthew watched the bounce of his brother’s cock as it sprang free entirely without shame.

Ronan looked...mouthwatering. He’d known his brother was good-looking, on account of he had functional eyes, and yeah sure, there had been the odd dream during puberty, but to actually see him like this in the flesh? Matthew should have punched Kavinsky years ago.

“Shit, Lynch,” Kavinsky whistled appreciatively, “I’d have let Baby Lynch punch me years ago if I knew that’s all it took to finally get you naked.”

Matthew elbowed him. “I’m four inches taller than either of you, ass, you don’t get to call me that.”

“Aw,” K fake-pouted, “you don’t want me to call you baby?” Matthew blushed, which seemed ridiculous in their current situation. Ronan snapped his fingers impatiently, fixing them with a glare that managed to be both hot and intimidating.

Kavinsky waved it off with a rude gesture and a ruder comment, climbing up onto Matthew’s lap as he did so. He turned to lock eyes with Ronan (which Matthew tried not to be offended by) and, without further preamble, sank right down onto Matthew’s cock.

Matthew moaned a little too loud to be dignified, which wasn’t surprising. Ronan did as well, which was. He reached down to grab his cock, biting his lip as Matthew snapped his hips up to meet Kavinsky’s ass. This was really happening. Ronan was jerking his cock watching Matthew fuck K and Matthew wanted nothing more than to call him closer.

“Lynch, you making a move or what? Baby Lynch doesn’t have long.” He leaned in and smirked against Matthew’s mouth. “Do you, baby?” Matthew just groaned, annoyed at the pet name but grateful for K’s forwardness.

Ronan strode up to stand beside them, saying nothing and taking K by the hair, pulling him over. K took Ronan’s dick down his throat with the same enthusiasm he’d taken Matthew’s. Jealousy burned in the pit of Matthew’s stomach, and he put it to use, slamming up forcefully into K. Ronan was _so close,_ Matthew could reach out and taste. God help him, he _wanted_ to. Instead, he reached out and rested his hand over Ronan’s, on the back of K’s head. He shared a wicked grin with his brother, and, as one, they pushed K down until his nose was nestled in Ronan’s pubes.

They held him there for a long moment, relishing his whines of discomfort. Finally,K reached out to smack Matthew in the chest, prompting them to release him. He pulled back, coughing angrily.

“Bitches,” he muttered darkly.

Matthew laughed. “Pot and kettle, K.” He thrust up, as Ronan crept behind Kavinsky.

“Pfft. Fuck that,” K said dismissively, “I’m a fucking knife.”

“No,” Ronan said as he crouched down to straddle Matthew’s knees, grabbing K around the chest and lining himself up. “You’re a _screw_.”

Then he forced his cock up into Kavinsky, right next to Matthew’s.

Matthew wailed, Ronan’s eyes fluttered shut, and K just exhaled sharply, as if he’d been punched in the gut.

The feeling was incredible. Matthew had never— _ever_ —felt tightness like this before. He could feel Ronan’s pulse. Through his dick. Which was, again, _right next to Matthew’s._ Their hearts were beating in time as they fucked K in sync, and Matthew was pretty sure that if he died there and then, he wouldn’t mind at all.

K wrapped his arms around Matthew’s neck, his head lolling off to the side. Ronan bent down and sank his teeth into K’s neck, leaving a mark right next to the one Matthew had left way back at the start. Matthew bent down and ran his tongue over the bite, never taking his eyes of his brother as they kept up their assault on K’s ass.

Ronan seemed to like that. Enough to push K’s head over and bite the opposite side before pulling back to let Matthew dive in. They repeated themselves over and over, until K’s neck and shoulders were a wasteland of bite marks and bruises, and the man himself was a whimpering mess, clinging to Matthew like his life depended on it and yet sprawling back against Ronan like he didn’t have a bone in his body.

But Matthew knew that wasn’t true. The evidence was rubbing insistently against his stomach with every thrust; K’s recovery time was impressive. Matthew gave his cock a few rough strokes and K cursed into Ronan’s lips.

The brothers’ eyes met, each rapidly nearing the edge. Their cocks slid against one another, Ronan pulling out as Matthew pushed in, never giving K’s prostate a moment’s rest. Matthew could feel himself getting closer by the second.

It was now or never.

He brought his right hand up to grasp Ronan’s shoulder. He shot his brother a questioning look, and watched as Ronan swallowed, before finally nodding.

K was swearing nonstop now, a high-pitched litany that went entirely ignored as Matthew pulled Ronan forward to crush their mouths together. He moaned shamelessly as Ronan’s tongue drove forward with such unrestrained aggression that Matthew felt as fucked as K.

He felt K’s body tense up, his hole squeezing down on them like a vice, and then they were all three of them gone.

  
  


Matthew could be sure how long the blissful haze lasted. One moment he was kissing Ronan, Kavinsky sandwiched between them; the next, his brother was slumped against the far arm of the couch, K stretched out across them like a cat, his head resting on Ronan’s thigh. Ronan was idly playing with K’s hair and smiling fondly at Matthew.

It was all very incongruously gentle, for what had just happened.

Matthew bit his lip, trying to figure out what to say after...all of that. ‘Thanks’ didn’t seem to cut it. ‘Hope this hasn’t totally ruined things between us’ was a little too heavy for the boneless sprawl of naked bodies. ‘Is anyone else hungry?’ just seemed stupid.

“Anybody see where my phone went? I’m gonna order Chinese.” Or he could let K say the stupid thing. Worked for him.

“Your pants are...” Matthew cast around. Their clothes were all in a pile, and Kavinsky and his brother had the same taste in clothes, so he couldn’t actually tell K’s castoff jeans from Ronan’s, “...somewhere over there,” he waved in the general direction of the heap.

K scoffed. “Fuck that, I don’t think I can get that far.”

“I’ll get it,” Matthew said. He didn’t move. “In a minute.”

Ronan snorted. “So,” he smiled at Matthew, “all debts paid?”

Matthew grinned back his brother.

“In full.”


End file.
